Healing Touch
by The Golden Duo 22
Summary: RemusHermione - Her scent was intoxicating, her voice seductive, her eyes brilliant & her kisses addictive, but her touch was something entirely different. Her touch was – for lack of a better term – magic.


_**Author's Note:**__ YAY! IT WORKED! Sorry for the delay, folks, but Meg's computer went decided to up and die and so we've been stuck with a limited time to work together, plus the fact that FFN has been blocking our updates for about 48 hours. ANYWAY, here for your enjoyment is a little fluffy RL/HG oneshot! Thank you, __**diamond-helen**__ for your editorial brilliance!_

_**Summary:**__ Her scent was intoxicating, her voice seductive, her eyes brilliant & her kisses addictive, but her touch was something entirely different. Her touch was – for lack of a better term – magic._

**Healing Touch**

Remus Lupin groaned slightly as he closed the door to the attic. His joints hurt, his back was sore, and the scratches that criss-crossed down his chest were painful. He was getting too old for the rambunctious playing his inner wolf put him through every full moon. Though he had spent the day sleeping off the effects of the night, the physical manifestations of his actions did not wane with the moon and he was only too happy to escape the dreariness of the plain, wood-panelled attic for the warmth of the rest of the house.

As his feet fell heavily on the second-floor landing, Remus paused and stretched as best he could, his limbs screaming rebellion as his joints popped. He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment as the subtle smell of the previous night's dinner wafted through his still-sensitive senses. She had made a roast for him – his favourite – with potatoes and haricot vert and, of course, chocolate mousse for dessert. The scent of it hung in the air and made his stomach rumble with realization that he hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours.

He took another step forward and caught another scent on the air. It was fainter than all the other scents that tended to overwhelm him in those first few days after the full moon, but nonetheless stopped his heart for a moment. It was so familiar – worn book leather, mint toothpaste, and orange blossoms – and had the power to stop and start his heart in one whiff.

He followed the scent as though drugged, his feet carrying him toward the bedroom they shared and his ears picking up the soft humming she tended to do subconsciously when she was pottering about. Her voice was melodic. Not the high, simpering soprano expected of her sex, but lower – richer – and rendered him absolutely powerless with a word. It also filled his body with unexpressed joy when that same voice moaned his name in ecstasy when they made love – so light and breathy it usually brought him tumbling over the edge to join her in her pleasure.

He followed the sound of her voice and the scent that was so uniquely _her_ to the bedroom they shared. She was busy folding the clothes that had just come off the line outside and the scent of her mixed with the linens made him growl slightly, his feral side still slightly active despite having a night of actual animalistic behaviour behind him. She always made him feel somewhat predatory in these situations.

She heard him and turned to the doorway, her face breaking into a large, somewhat toothy grin as her wild curls tumbled over her shoulders, moving with her body. Her hazel eyes surveyed his presence with a warmth that she only reserved for him, and his mouth went dry as he watched her blink happily at him. He could feel the relief pouring over her in waves as she surveyed him for the blood and bruises that sometimes accompanied his attic adventures, her breathing starting to even when she saw he was relatively unscathed.

When she turned to look at him again, his body gave an involuntary shiver. The sparkle of pure, unrestrained love in those eyes could knock him flat as much as the flash of brilliant anger that sometimes was directed toward him – though he admitted half the time he annoyed her simply to see the change and watch her eyes dance and flash. The hazel darkened to deep chocolate and half the time he had to withhold himself from ravishing her when she worked herself up into an intellectual frenzy.

Five years, and she still made him feel like he was falling in love with her all over again when he looked into her eyes.

"Did you get enough rest?" she asked him, approaching him with a confident gait that was all her own. Standing on her tiptoes she kissed him gently on his lips and he was quick to wind his arms around her small body to draw her closer and deepen her kiss.

From the first moment his lips had touched hers, he had been absolutely addicted to her taste. She was dark and exotic but sweet and familiar all at the same time and his head spun as her lips moved softly upon his. He knew from personal experience that she was not all softness and sweetness, but he liked her like that at times like this – after his full moon, when he was feeling particularly vulnerable – so he could hold her and know that she felt completely safe in his arms. She knew that about him, and allowed him to be the masculine figure that he needed to be at the times he needed to be it.

"It's hard to rest when you're not with me," he murmured against her collarbone, his nose pressed into her curls, nuzzling into their surprising softness and inhaling her scent in large gulps.

She chuckled.

"I wish I could have taken the day off to spend it with you, but I had a diplomatic conference I had to attend," she said apologetically, pulling away and bringing her hand to his face. She pushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes, her fingertips caressing his skin and he had to grip her tighter to him to avoid his knees buckling.

Her scent was intoxicating, her voice seductive, her eyes brilliant and her kisses addictive, but her touch was something entirely different. Her touch was – for lack of a better term – magic. The very second her fingertips touched him, he felt completely at peace. His aches, pains, and stress would vanish and it would just be him and her and her fingertips making every bad aspect of his life at the moment go away.

"I'll tell you what," she whispered, running her fingertips down his chest to the hem of his t-shirt. "Why don't I run us a hot bath, hmm? I'll catch you up on the extraordinarily boring life I've had in the past twenty-four hours. Does that sound good?"

He smiled in response and she kissed him again before pulling away and walking toward their bathroom. Despite feeling empty and alone when she wasn't in his arms, he continued to smile as he watched her turn the taps, running her hand under the water until it was her desired temperature before turning away to search the cabinets for the jasmine-scented bath oil that she knew calmed him.

Remus pulled his t-shirt off and discarded it into the corner. He knew it bothered her when he threw his clothes around without care, but she never chided him for it when he came back from the attic and he took complete advantage of that fact. Unbuttoning his jeans, he kicked out of them before walking to the bathroom in his briefs, smiling as she hummed while she undressed, folding her clothes, and placing them neatly on the side of the sink.

She entered the tub first, her deliciously rounded bottom distracting him as he watched her turn and sink into the clear, fragrant water. The steam rose up and immediately clung to her unruly curls and his breath hitched as she turned her inviting smile back on him.

Without further beckoning, he stepped into the bath and sank down with a grateful sigh. Her arms slipped under his, wrapping around his torso as she drew him back into her embrace. He let out a satisfied groan when his aching body sank into her soft curves, relaxing one tense muscle at a time.

He could feel her buoyant breasts pressed against his back, her sweetly rounded thighs resting at his sides. He placed his hands on her knees and let her wandering fingers play havoc with his chest hairs. Her head rested against the side of his as she placed small, comforting kisses along the line of his shoulder.

"Is it wrong of me to say I look forward to this every month?" she asked quietly, after a few moments where only the sound of gently lapping water against skin was heard.

Remus sighed and sunk further down the tub so that his head was cushioned between her breasts and his body was almost reclining.

"No. Sometimes it's the only thing that gets me off the floor and back down here," he replied after some time.

She shifted her hands lightly through his sandy hair, massaging his scalp gently as his breathing evened out. He didn't have to open his eyes to know she was smiling down at him.

"I think I would have gone looking for you if you hadn't come down," she commented lightly, shifting her gentle, soothing touch down his neck.

Remus felt his own smile bloom as he cracked open one eye to look at her.

"Miss me, did you?" he teased.

Her eyes took on a mischievous glint as she smoothed both palms flat down his chest, sliding up and down several times, enjoying the varying textures she encountered.

"A little, I suppose," she agreed.

"Only a little? And here I was under the impression that you spent every waking hour pacing down here."

"I try not to," she whispered quietly, leaning down to kiss his lips softly.

Remus moaned into her mouth, her hands stilling against his chest as the passion they knew for each other ignited. It was a heady sensation; to float beneath her, her breasts dangling tantalizingly close, her hands creating something more magical than any potion ever brewed, while she kissed him breathless.

"I'm sorry," she whispered when she pulled back a few moments later, shifting back to a sitting position behind him.

Remus pulled himself back up and turned slightly to frown at her.

"What for?" he asked.

"You're tired and sore, I shouldn't start something we won't finish," she replied sadly, reaching beside them to a small table and picking up a large drench sponge. "Turn around," she commanded softly, leaving no room for him to argue with her.

Remus obeyed, turning back in her arms so that he faced the ornate gold taps at the opposite end of the bath. He felt her dip the sponge beneath the water beside them, holding it down for a moment, before bringing it back. She ran it lightly up his spine, stopping at his neck to squeeze the moisture out, letting it run a river back down to the bath. The sensations of her hands and running water were both sensual and soothing at the same time.

She repeated the action over and over, dragging the sponge up to a point, only to squeeze its fragrant contents out. Remus felt himself relaxing into her soft curves once again, trying to ignore his now-pointed arousal her previous kisses and touch had ignited. Her hands reached around to his stomach, dipping forward to drench the sponge before running it up his abdominals and wringing it again.

His sharp intake of breath and the involuntary bucking of his hips told him she knew exactly what kind of effect her actions were having on him. He felt her lips press against his shoulder, making a bee-line up his neck to capture his earlobe gently between her teeth.

"I want you," she whispered sweetly against his ear.

"Then have me," he rasped out, shuddering as she dropped the sponge and shifted closer to him, her thighs tightening against his sides as her fingers splayed down his lower stomach.

"I should let you rest," she breathed, even as her hands sought out the coarse trail of hair that led directly to his throbbing arousal.

"Later," he gasped, watching her petite hands wrap around his organ. He arched his neck back, his head resting on her shoulder as his mouth dropped open. She looked down at the expression on her lover's face, her hands pumping a slow but steady rhythm.

Remus could think of nothing as her hand moved in the sensual, heart-stopping rhythm she knew he loved. They had been lovers for five years, but she never ceased to amaze him with how well she knew his body. As her grip tightened, drawing a moan from deep within him, her lips skittered across his neck, leaving tiny love-bites that had him shivering. Eyes hooded, he watched and felt every pull of her hand against his sensitive body.

"Baby," he breathed. "Please…I can't last…"

"Then let it go," she replied, kissing his temple sweetly despite the wicked movements of her hands.

Her fingers caressed his skin, her lips trailed hot kisses up and down his neck, and he was gone. With a strangled cry, his hips bucked and his stomach tightened as he came. He drew a quick breath, as though he hadn't been breathing since the start of her beguiling caresses and suddenly shivered as the cooling water and the even-cooler air brought his body temperature down.

She sighed.

"C'mon…let's get you in bed," she whispered, pushing him up slightly so she could step out of the bath. Still catching his breath, he watched as she walked toward their towels, unashamed by her bare body. Small rivulets of water slid down her back and tiny droplets still clung to her curls. And as she wrapped the fluffy gray towel around her body, Remus wondered how he could have been so lucky. This woman – his wife – was a goddess.

Turning to hold his towel up for him, she motioned for him to join her. Stepping out of the tub, Remus shivered again, suddenly aware of his age and the pain in his joints and the red scars down his chest. She seemed to ignore these factors, however, as she handed him the towel and watched as he wrapped it around his waist.

"How's your back?" she asked.

"Sore," he admitted. "But better after the water."

"Go lay down," she said. "And I'll go get the oil."

"You don't have to…"

"Remus," she said, her eyes flashing with warning. "Don't argue with me."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the defiant look in her eye and acquiesced without another word. Laying on his stomach upon the clean ivory sheets, he pressed his nose into the pillow, inhaling the light scent that she left on everything she touched. He inhaled like a man dying of thirst, craving her scent, her body – her everything.

"Searching for something, Sherlock?" her voice asked teasingly as he buried his face in the pillow again.

"I've missed your scent," he said, the sweet-nothing muffled by the pillow but he was sure she was smiling.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked.

"All over," he mumbled.

He felt the dip of the bed as she joined him, feeling her body getting closer to his as she prepared her hands for this monthly ritual that both excited and soothed him. Over the years she had learned just where his problem spots were, and had been able to massage them – and usually him by the end of it – into submission.

Tonight was no exception as her hands touched his shoulders with their healing power. Tiny fingers dug into his muscles, causing him to groan in relief as the knots realized they would do well to allow themselves to be conquered by her insistence. The warm scent of peppermint told him that she was using the massage potion she had made specifically for him, and as he took deep breaths he could feel his body slowly descending into that hazy sleepiness that overwhelmed his body when he knew it was safe and he didn't have to worry about the moon until the next month.

***

The next thing he knew, Remus was slowly drifting back to consciousness and everything around him was dark. Panicking slightly, he flipped onto his back only to realize that he was in bed and a small, soft body was pressed next to him. The waning moon was high in the sky and if he hadn't known better, he would have thought it full. But it wasn't, and from its position, he figured her magic fingers had put him to sleep for a good five hours.

Turning to face his wife, he smiled. A ringlet had dislodged itself from her hasty ponytail and was draped over her forehead. Her nose twitched slightly, clearly feeling the small tendrils of hair tickling her skin. Remus slowly pushed the ringlet behind her ear, his fingers drifting over the smattering of freckles over her nose. He had counted those freckles on several occasions, and always came out with different results. But she was lovely nonetheless, whether it was six freckles or eight or thirteen.

He realized that she had removed his towel from him while he was sleeping, so he lay naked beneath the warm sheets. His heart leapt slightly as he realized that she had foregone her nightclothes as well, and that her curves, full and soft, were bared for his touch. He brought his hand to her shoulder, watching as she curled slightly under his soft touch. Moving closer to her, he dropped soft kisses on her eyelids as his fingers travelled over her shoulder to her back and down her side, pausing at the gentle curve of her hip and letting his thumb make lazy circles against her skin as she slowly woke.

"Hi," he whispered, kissing her deeply before she had a chance to chastise him for waking her at such an hour. She groaned, her arms wrapping around his neck as he drew her body closer to him, feeling every delicious curve against his muscles. He was both relaxed and ridiculously turned on by the beautiful creature in front of him.

"Hi," she replied breathlessly when he pulled away, fully awake now and the desire for him shining in her hazel eyes. He smiled, cupping her chin.

"I just realized that I never said 'thank you' for everything you did tonight," he breathed, rolling her onto her back and falling atop her soft body. "It was most discourteous of me."

She grinned wickedly.

"I think I might be able to forgive you," she whispered. "But that depends on how you intend to make amends."

He caught her lips again, but there was nothing soft about the fervour he displayed for her kiss. He devoured her, his hands skimming down her body as he caressed her delicate curves.

His lithe body pressed her into the mattress, her body already moulding to his as their mouths met passionately. She moaned and cradled him to her, her hands running up and down his tattered back, feeling familiar, pliant muscles ripple pleasantly beneath her fingertips.

"Remus," she sighed when he pulled away to place heated kisses along her jaw line, tracing the column of her neck until he reached her breasts. She clutched at his hair when he took one pert nipple between his lips and tugged gently. He smiled in satisfaction when her sharp cries echoed throughout the room.

She slid her thighs impatiently against his, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, her ankles crossing at his back. He felt her wet, urgent heat against his full arousal and groaned as he pulled back up to kiss her again. She responded to his touch with equal urgency, thrusting her hips against his in an effort to gain more friction.

Remus didn't need much more encouragement than her soft mewling gasps and absently scraping nails as he surged forward and filled her with a single thrust.

"Oh God!" she cried out, her back arching as she clung to him. He had never seen a more erotic sight in his life than his beautiful wife spread before him; her eyes squeezed shut, her head thrown back and her cheeks flushed with arousal. He leant forward with a groan and buried his head between her breasts, pulling back slowly before thrusting into her deeply.

She gasped and her nails left angry red crescents across his shoulder blades, her body rising and falling with each deliciously deliberate thrust. He knew exactly which angle to aim for, the places to kiss and touch her to bring her to that mind-altering place only he had seen her reach. Remus watched his wife's rise to orgasm with a knowing glint, feeling her walls clasp him in welcome with each thrust, feeling his own climax swiftly approaching.

Her breath now came in short gasps, her words of encouragement incoherent as their bodies merged and he lost track of who started where. Remus reached behind him to grasp one ankle, drawing it up beside their bodies to hook it over his shoulder. He returned his hand back down between them and with a few practiced flicks of his thumb had her shuddering violently against him.

"Please," she pleaded, her heavy eyes opening to stare at him, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as the tiny fluttering of her inner muscles turned into throbbing convulsions. Remus groaned and pressed her further into the pillowed mattress, her milking clasps bringing him to the brink.

"_Yesss_," he hissed as his abused muscles tensed and his stomach tightened in response to his own shuddering climax.

It was several long, breathless minutes later before he found the strength to even open his eyes. He found her still panting and flushed beneath him and was reluctant to roll to his side, even though he was aware he was probably crushing her.

"You silly man," she murmured sleepily, nudging him with her body, her legs now resting limp by his sides. He finally rolled over, but took her with him so that she nuzzled happily into his side.

"What, no declaration of undying love?" he teased, pushing her heavy curls away from her face, kissing each of her closed eyelids.

"You know I love you. But really Remus, you should be resting," she sighed, and he knew that had she been standing, her hands would have been on her hips.

"I didn't hear you protesting a few minutes ago," he grinned, kissing her softly.

"Hmm," she hummed, rubbing her cheek against his chest and wrapping her arm around his stomach.

"I promise I'll rest now," he whispered into her hair, kissing her temple as he watched her slowly fall to sleep.

"So you can be all healed by morning," she said faintly, her breathing already slowing once again.

Remus smiled in the dark and pulled her closer to him as she finally succumbed to the much-needed sleep. He knew that it wasn't just sleep that had the power to heal – Hermione's love had a magic all her own.


End file.
